


Sera Was Never

by TheNim



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Banter, Cunnilingus, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Humor, Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:00:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29861919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNim/pseuds/TheNim
Summary: In which the Inquisitor learns the joys of spring cleaning.
Relationships: Female Inquisitor/Sera (Dragon Age), Sera/Female Trevelyan (Dragon Age)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 11
Collections: Nobody Expects the Dragon Age Smutquisition





	Sera Was Never

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ajir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ajir/gifts).



“Ah! Sera-” Trevelyan moans, her hand pushing and pulling on the straw blonde mop of hair currently nestled between her legs.

Suddenly, in the frenzy of the moment, she throws her head back, lips stretched around a pleased groan and- _crunch_ -

Trevelyan stops dead in her tracks, eyes wide.

“ _Sera_ ,” she calls, a totally different tone than before. The woman in question keeps on eagerly lapping at her ‘ladybits’ (Trevelyan can’t believe she’s started calling it that, but here we are), deaf to the world. “Sera, for fuck’s sake,” she reprimands as she tears the elf away from her hindquarters (and again).

“Hey hey, what?” Sera snarls, clawing at the hand still gripping her hair. “If you want to play rough say it. Like this? Not fun.”

Trevelyan doesn’t pay attention, too caught up in understanding what in the blighted name of _Andraste_ made that awful sound under her.

It isn’t the first time they’re fooling around in Sera’s, uh, calling them ‘apartments’ is quite the stretch, but Trevelyan will be damned if she doesn’t come back from some casual frolicking in there with something different sticking to her every single time.

Some weird jingly bauble she couldn’t even comprehend the use of, slimey whatevers that got spilled on the floor, or a tapestry which had decided it preferred to cling onto the Herald of Andraste’s holy armor rather than a dusty wall.

Trevelyan's had enough, thank you very much.

Sera’s room is warm and cozy and so inherently Sera, and she actually likes it most of the time, namely when she doesn’t have to strip and have sex in it.

She tried to convince the stubborn woman to try and at least make it _presentable_ , but no, it always comes back to, “ugh, and get as boring as boring goes?”

So here they are.

“Sera,” Trevelyan says again, and really the more she says it the more it sounds ominous. Her eyes are closed and she looks far more nobley than usual, Sera notices. “Why is there a whole ass cookie in my hair?”

“Why shouldn’t it be?” Sera snorts, taking advantage of Trevelyan’s distress to cop a feel of her tits.

“Maker’s itching _balls_!” Trevelyan sits up and starts pawing at the crumbles that are getting more and more tangled with her poor hairdo. Sera’s crassness is rubbing on her, and she keeps on making every possible deity fall from the heavens. “What in the ass-cunt flaming bitch- _eugh_!”

Some bits of the offending pastry fall on the sheets, and Trevelyan ends up sitting on them. She shivers up to the nape of her neck, the mood officially killed and thrown in a ditch.

“C’mon, Sparkly, don’t-” barely holding her chuckles at bay, Sera tries to get her sweetheart to stop squirming around, accidentally making the both of them fall on the floor in the process. Naked. Ouch.

Trevelyan has her leg tangled in a multicolored _something_ and as soon as she tries to break free a very heavy, very concrete mandolin topples to the floor with a sad cacophony of strings and almost hits her on the forehead.

“I’ve had it. We’re cleaning up all of this right now!” The Inquisitor manages to get up on her feet, slapping her butt to shake off the remaining crumbles. The sight of the Herald of Andraste in her birthday suit, hair a hot tangled mess, feverishly undoing the already very undone bed in Sera’s quarters is… novel, to say the least.

Sera can’t stop laughing, rolling around on the carpet and kicking her legs like a little kid. “The best! You know your stuff, huh?”

Trevelyan shakes her head but, be it Sera’s obnoxious cackle that always manages to warm her heart or the sheer stupidity of the situation, she starts giggling too.

That’s when a pair of strong, clammy hands grip her thighs and topple her again on the floor.

They end up smooching on the carpet and Trevelyan can feel the coarse material scratching her back, but all the discomfort is forgotten the moment Sera’s clever arrow-trained fingers find her clit.

Although Trevelyan is no uptight aristocrat, she can safely say that during her time in Ostwick no one had ever brought her to completion on anything other than lavender-scented silk sheets.

But Sera does just that. Three times.

As Trevelyan comes down from her high, Sera’s bony arms around her and their legs intertwined, she sighs contently.

“We’re screwing in my quarters from now on.”

Sera’s laugh is so loud it covers the busy chattering of the tavern below.

**Author's Note:**

> this is the first time i'm writing anything with sera in it, but i thought it was a fun challenge and i wanted to try.
> 
> thank you for the cute prompt and i hope you'll like this short fic, though it's mostly fooling around.


End file.
